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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014844">Free Fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32'>JSinister32</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Don't copy to another site, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, New Relationship, Protective Hannibal Lecter, SO MUCH FLUFF, Top Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham First Time, Will Graham is a Mess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014844</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You heard me right,” Will murmured over the lid of his cup.  Hannibal continued to study the profiler’s face, tentative hope painted into his handsome features.  Will shrugged, gesturing vaguely to the numerous agents trying to make themselves useful to avoid the ire of Jack Crawford’s thunderous voice.  “This has been all I’ve done for more months than I care to count.  I could use a night of distraction.”  Hannibal nodded slowly, hopeful heat pooling into the pit of his stomach.</p><p>“Then I shall endeavor to provide you with an apt diversion.  Would 7PM suit?”  Will nodded and drained what remained of his coffee, glancing around for a trash can to deposit the cup.  In the end, he used a bag one of the new suits was carrying around to gather odds and ends the real investigators were discarding as they worked.  “Can you do me a favor though?”  Hannibal inclined his head; a silent, elegant gesture to ask.</p><p>“Can we refrain from talking about work?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>329</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Free Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alessa13/gifts">Alessa13</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know I say it a lot, but I hope you guys always know how much I love writing for you. </p><p>This story is written for Alessa13 with hugs and lots of love.  Happy birthday, darling.  I hope you enjoy what I did with your request.</p><p>Hearts and Body Parts,<br/>🤍JM</p><p>NOTE: I absolutely hate having to add this note in my stories, just so you all know. I do not allow translations or copies to other sites. If you find my work anywhere other than AO3, please let me know. Thank you for understanding.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>What a thing,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>To be both starving and empty.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>To ache for love-</em>
  <br/>
  <em>To take the scraps from its table,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And yet run, sickly from the feast.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can’t fathom why</em>
  <br/>
  <em> I’d gobble your kisses, </em>
  <br/>
  <em>But duck your attention.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please understand-</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Some of us have gone so long hungry,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The idea of being full </em>
  <br/>
  <em>Feels worse than the affliction.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-Love Disorders and Other Heartaches</em>
</p><hr/><p>It took weeks of gentle coaxing to convince Will to come to dinner with him.  It didn’t matter how many cases he and Hannibal worked together, how many late nights they spent before the fire in his office, talking until night turned back into day; the profiler could not be convinced that what Hannibal felt for him was anything resembling real affection and interest beyond professional curiosity.  When asked about his reluctance, Will blushed to his hairline and changed the subject, and spent their next meeting carefully avoiding Hannibal’s gaze. </p><p>When he finally agreed, Hannibal was so surprised he had to ask him twice, just to ensure he’d heard the other man correctly.</p><p>“I apologize for asking-” Will snorted and took another sip of his coffee, grimacing at the bitterness as it burst across his tongue.  The body they had come to examine was now covered with sleek zippered plastic, hidden away like a magician’s trick.  Will had given Jack everything he needed to catch the man who had broken his ex wife’s skull open, leaving her immobilized but alive before escaping out the back door and into the gardens behind the vast estate.  Her death, he relayed to Jack, must have been truly horrific.  The victim’s blood looked somehow brighter, more obscene as it soaked into the pristine marble floors, each rivulet glowing in Technicolor glory in the sunlight that poured into the room.  He took another drink of his coffee and lamented for the cleaning crew that would be sent to divest the house of the evidence of the previous occupant’s untimely demise.</p><p>Blood could be such a bitch to clean out of porous stone.</p><p>“You heard me right,” Will murmured over the lid of his cup.  Hannibal continued to study the profiler’s face, tentative hope painted into his handsome features.  Will shrugged, gesturing vaguely to the numerous agents trying to make themselves useful to avoid the ire of Jack Crawford’s thunderous voice.  “This has been all I’ve done for more months than I care to count.  I could use a night of distraction.”  Hannibal nodded slowly, hopeful heat pooling into the pit of his stomach.</p><p>“Then I shall endeavor to provide you with an apt diversion.  Would 7PM suit?”  Will nodded and drained what remained of his coffee, glancing around for a trash can to deposit the cup.  In the end, he used a bag one of the new suits was carrying around to gather odds and ends the real investigators were discarding as they worked.  “Can you do me a favor though?”  Hannibal inclined his head; a silent, elegant gesture to ask.</p><p>“Can we refrain from talking about work?”  The small smile on the doctor’s face grew.</p><p>“I wouldn’t dream of discussing something so mundane in our time outside of working hours,” he murmured.  “Not when there are so many other things I wish to know.”  Will returned his smile without glancing into Hannibal’s eyes; he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what was in them.</p><p>“I'm not a test subject, Doctor.  Nor am I an experiment.”  Hannibal reached over and discreetly wrapped his fingers around Will’s wrist; the gesture was so possessively intimate that Will met his gaze, surprised to find nothing except warm affection in the other man’s bloodstained eyes.</p><p>“I think you’ll find any conversation we have this evening will have nothing to do with your impressive arsenal of detecting skills, Will.  I’d much rather know the man than his abilities, if that suits.”  Hannibal’s fingers stroked over his pulse point; Will’s breath caught in his throat.</p><p>“If you say so.”  The profiler’s voice shook; the small touch to his wrist set his blood alight, deeply unsettling his internal balance.  It felt like soaring; the exhilaration of a free fall deep in the pit of his stomach.  <em>Butterflies.</em></p><p>“I do.  I hope you enjoy French cuisine?”  Will made a small noise in the back of his throat.</p><p>“I can’t say that I would know, to be honest.  My palate is not nearly as refined as yours seems to be.”  Hannibal held his gaze safely within his own.  <em>Trust me. </em></p><p>“I believe we should endeavor to change that.  I will make the necessary arrangements.  Please meet my at my office at 6:30 sharp.  I will drive us from there.” </p><p>“At your office instead of the restaurant?” Will asked, distrust clear in his voice.  “Why?”  Hannibal seemed ready for the question.</p><p>“It will give me adequate time to prepare you for the menu,” he explained, his fingers idling over Will’s skin.  “Most of it is written in French, with scant English descriptions of items below.  If we discuss it before we arrive, you’ll feel less inclined to be nervous.  It will help you enjoy the experience rather than being encumbered by a language barrier.”  Silence filled the space between them; Will couldn’t help but be impressed by Hannibal’s forethought.</p><p>“Sounds like you’ve been planning this a while,” he finally murmured.  Hannibal nodded and released his wrist.  Something deep and primal buried within him already missed the contact.</p><p>“I have, but please refrain from feeling any kind of pressure.  It’s only dinner and conversation.  All verbal discourse will, of course, be kept between us.  One of the many benefits of doctor/patient confidentiality.”  Will smiled reluctantly; a raise of lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes.</p><p>“But I’m not your patient.  We just have conversations.”  Hannibal’s face filled with quiet mirth.</p><p>“Ahh.  That is true, to be sure.  Perhaps I shall draft up an NDA instead.  That way, even if I am tortured, I will be within my lawful right to deny my captor any secrets with which you may provide me.  Such as your favorite color.  Perhaps what you wished to be when you grew up.”  Will’s wary smile turned into a true, impish grin.</p><p>“I think you can count yourself safe from torture, Doctor.  I’ve never met a man more capable of handling himself in a poor situation than you.  I’d almost feel bad for anyone that tried.”  Hannibal’s eyes gleamed.</p><p>“We shall dispense with the NDA, then.  Please feel free to let me know if you change your mind, just in case I need to contact my notary.”  Will’s laughter rang out over the crime scene, effectively lightening the dour mood of everyone in the room.</p><p>***</p><p>Their first meal together was such a smashing success, it turned into an almost weekly event.  Hannibal had been right; when Will had the proper atmosphere to relax, he bloomed.  In the weeks that followed, French cuisine gave way to Italian, merging into several different attempts at Asian food before they gave up their efforts.  While tasty, neither man could quite find items on the menu that managed to excite their palates enough to continue the search.  Hannibal slowly introduced Will to Indian food; curry tempted him back again and again, along with more exotic dishes of which he could never quite remember the name. </p><p>Within their first few dinners, Hannibal seemed to have his tastes well memorized, often ordering for them without much more than a perfunctory glance in Will’s direction for confirmation.  Ordering authentic cuisine always made Will nervous; he never quite got the pronunciation, and constantly stumbling over his own tongue made him feel foolish.  Passing the reins to his companion eased the discomfort, and Hannibal didn’t seem to mind.  It was impressive to watch; words flowed from the doctor’s lips in every language he could imagine, fluent enough that each could be his first dialect with nobody the wiser.  His refined palate took them to new and exciting places, and Hannibal often shared the more traditional dishes he selected across the table, one bite at a time.</p><p>It gave Will a secret thrill to feel the tines of the other man’s fork between his lips, holding Hannibal’s darkly delighted gaze as he marveled over the doctor’s choices of cuisine.  The look on Hannibal’s face followed him into his dreams, surfacing under very different circumstances.  Waking to his own fretful moans happened almost as often as their meals together.</p><p>For all the delights of the food, it paled in comparison to the conversations the two men shared.  Once Will moved beyond his initial distrust of Hannibal’s motives, he found the doctor to be one of the most enjoyable conversationalists he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.  Their witty banter wound from topic to topic, never straying into anything resembling their occupations.  Hannibal proved to be knowledgeable on a vast variety of topics; they rarely had to reach for anything to discuss.  What would begin as light conversation on the difference of bespoke versus tailored suits would cleverly turn to a reminiscence of Italy, especially when Hannibal was supplied with after dinner coffee.  Their mutual love of quiet classical music lead to a spirited debate on the world’s greatest composer; Will still wasn’t sure who had won the argument.  Each topic left him a little breathless, often thinking about the conversation for the days in between their dinners.</p><p>For weeks, there was nothing except the single evening they shared, their professional lives set aside in favor of a meal Will didn’t get from a frozen container and more meaningful discussions than he had managed with anyone in his life.  They’d graduated from generalized small talk to deeper, more personal conversation within a month; Hannibal knew more about him than most who had known him for far longer.  The other man grew uncannily adept at discerning his moods during their meetings, able to change the restaurant to somewhere with a quieter atmosphere if Will was stressed, speaking in low, reassuring tones as the profiler relaxed into the evening.  Within minutes, the tension he held onto was swept away in his delight at Hannibal’s company.</p><p>As time wore on, Will found himself reaching for the doctor’s quiet stability more often than the time they spent together at dinner.  Their evening sessions seemed to linger onward, long into the early morning hours as they discussed forts and pathology with the ease of old friends.  Perfunctory touches when they were together began to appear; gestures so small, it took him time to realize they were happening at all.  Each small sensation sent his stomach turning and swooping; the pleasant, controlled drop of vertigo swam through Will’s veins, leaving him breathlessly lightheaded.</p><p>When they dined together, Hannibal always guided him to and from the room with a gentle hand to the small of his back, the gesture protective and possessive; both everything and nothing at once.  Will found his thoughts straying to the touches late at night, wondering what the doctor’s hands would feel like elsewhere on his skin.  Face flushed red, he burrowed beneath the covers in an attempt to quell his growing attraction.  The days following his restless nights were met with gentle glances and few questions; it was as if Hannibal understood his embarrassment without needing to voice it.  There was no judgment, only a quiet concern that was coupled with reassurance when Will was able to once again look him in the eye.</p><p>When the shift to what they were came, it came swiftly, and without warning.</p><p>***</p><p> Will sat wearily at his desk, typing out an apology in a text he didn’t want to write, wondering if he had anything in his fridge to eat at home.  Friday nights were the worst for grocery shopping; he would rather collect something through a drive thru than risk having to make small talk with a cashier, especially after wading through ankle deep blood all afternoon.  Glancing with no small amount of irritation at the stack of reports he would need to fill out before Monday, he turned his attention instead to the disappointment he was about to deliver to his friend.</p><p>[05:19PM] <strong>Hey Hannibal.  I hate to cancel so last minute, but I</strong><strong>’ve been at a crime scene that’s left me too weary to make it out to dinner tonight.  I apologize for the late notice.  Have a great weekend.</strong></p><p>His thumb hesitated over the send button; he wanted more than anything to see Hannibal, but his exhaustion from the day and the bloodstains on his shoes left him without the energy to make it through one of their usual weekly dinners.  Trying hard not to think too much on it, he hit send and turned his phone upside down on his desk, ensuring he couldn’t see the reply that was surely coming to him. </p><p>He lasted five minutes before turning it back over, only to discover he had missed three calls and had two messages waiting for him.  With an inward sigh, Will unlocked his phone and dialed Hannibal’s number.  The doctor’s rich voice filled his ear within moments, easing through his senses like Novocaine.  <em>Christ I missed hearing your voice today.</em></p><p>“Hello, Will.  Forgive the multiple calls, but I believe you are well aware that I have a twenty four hour cancellation policy.”  Will’s laughter erupted like a gunshot.</p><p>“Sorry for bailing on you tonight-” he started.  His voice trailed off; he didn’t want to put the day into words.  He could still feel the liquid on his shoes.  Hannibal kept his silence, waiting for him to continue.</p><p>“It’s just-God, it’s just been a fucking awful day.  I’m in no mood to try and wade through a menu, a waiter, other guests-”  Hannibal cleared his throat, giving the profiler the opportunity to catch his aching breath.</p><p>“I see.  May I ask what you plan to eat for dinner tonight?”  Will tensed; he’d known the question would come but hadn’t thought on how to reply before calling Hannibal back.  His panicked silence seemed to say it all.</p><p>“Drive thru, was it?” the doctor asked gently.  Will couldn’t bring himself to respond.  “May I suggest an alternative?”</p><p>“Does it involve a glass of whiskey and an early bedtime?” Will retorted hopefully.  Hannibal’s chuckle eased another millimeter of tension from his shoulders.</p><p>“Not as such, but that can certainly be arranged once you have something in your stomach.  In lieu of a restaurant, I’d like to invite you to dine with me in my home instead.  No menu to speak of, no waiters or other diners.  Just-”</p><p>“Us,” Will interrupted before he could stop himself.  He could hear Hannibal’s smile through the phone.</p><p>“Precisely.  We can eat and seeing as we are outside of our usual venue and you sound as if you need it, I’d be happy to listen if you would like to unburden your day from your mind.”  Will nodded; in his relief he forgot that Hannibal couldn’t actually see him.  The lump that had lodged in his throat prevented him from speaking for some time, but he managed to murmur something akin to an ascent.  Tears welled up into his eyes; exhaustion, elation, terror swirled through his stomach, sending the butterflies into a tsunami of emotional upheaval.</p><p>“Excellent.  It is after five now; you should already be on your way home.  If you have paperwork, leave it.  Nothing is as important as your wellbeing, and we can set that right this evening.”  Will glanced at the stack of folders, wondering if he dared leave them.  <em>Hannibal is right, </em>he realized.  <em>They aren</em><em>’t needed until next week. They’ll keep until then.</em> </p><p>“Kindly prepare yourself for the weekend and make your way home,” the doctor continued in his ear.  “Your only tasks are to see to it that your dogs are fed and that you shower and change.  Rinse the day from you, don something comfortable to relax with me in my home, and I will text you directions.  Send me a message when you are on the way, and I will take care of everything else.” </p><p>The lump of gratitude in Will’s throat threatened to cut off his supply of air.</p><p>“Are- I mean-”</p><p>“Yes, I am certain.  Go home, Will.  Rid yourself of this awful day, and come to me when you are ready.”</p><p>“Okay.  Yeah, alright,” Will babbled.  “I’ll- I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”</p><p>“That will be fine.  I will stop by the store on my way home.  And Will?”</p><p>“Yes?” </p><p>“Please do not worry anymore.  The weekend starts now, and Monday will take care of itself.”</p><p>***</p><p>“Christ, why have we been eating at restaurants this entire time?  I didn’t know you could cook like this.”  Hannibal watched his dinner guest with covetous eyes, the red shine of the wine a perfect match to the hue of his irises.  Will was unabashedly spooning what remained of his dessert into his mouth.  The doctor had chosen something simple and easy to prepare so Will wouldn’t have to wait to eat, but the baked pear he was now consuming with a generous scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream seemed to be exactly what the profiler needed.  He had been equally ravenous when consuming the pasta and scallops with which he had been presented, eating it with such enjoyment, it was difficult to keep from staring. </p><p>Hannibal took a fortifying sip of wine; Will was licking his spoon as if he wanted to make it beg.  The sight made something deeply buried in his soul groan.</p><p>“Would you like another half?” he asked, standing to remove his own clean plate.  Will glanced up, the look in his eyes evidence that he had been, until that moment, completely unaware of what he had been doing.  He blushed, his cheeks staining a beautiful shell pink.  It took everything in Hannibal’s willpower to look away.  <em>Gods above, give me strength.</em></p><p>“No- no I’m fine.  I just…” Will looked away, embarrassed.  Hannibal’s heart squeezed gently.  <em>We shall, at last, come to the meat of what occurred today.</em></p><p>“No need for embarrassment, Will,” he murmured with a small smile.  “I’m delighted you enjoyed the meal as much as you did.  I didn’t have time to prepare something up to my usual culinary standards, but-” Wills laugh cut through the rest of his statement.</p><p>“Jesus, if that’s what you can do with an hour, I’m not sure I’d survive the entire experience.  Can I help you with these?”  Without waiting for a reply, he stood and collected the dishes from around the table, carrying them through the dining room to the kitchen.  Setting them on the counter, he filled the sink, testing the water to ensure it was warm and began the work of cleaning their plates.</p><p>“You have no cause to clean, Will,” Hannibal protested.  “You are a guest in my home.”  The profiler adjusted the sleeves on the deep blue sweater he’d donned, pushing them up above his elbows.</p><p>“I was raised better than that, Doctor Lecter.  You cooked; I’ll clean.”  Hannibal watched him for a moment, quietly fascinated by the flex of muscle beneath the skin of his forearms as he worked.</p><p>“I appreciate your efforts, nonetheless,” he finally replied.  “I will make myself useful and start a fire in my office.  I believe you’ll find it equally comfortable to your sessions in my practice, as long as I raise the temperature.  We can then begin the process of clearing your head of today’s events and you can begin your weekend with a clear conscience.”  Will nodded distractedly, collecting another dish from the pile.</p><p>“Not sure how much talking I’m going to be up to doing, but I appreciate it.”</p><p>“Of course.  We can talk as little or as much as you’d like.  I even have that fabled bottle of whiskey you desired before I made my offer.”  Will’s eyes met his, gleaming brightly in the kitchen lights.</p><p>“That actually sounds rather perfect.  Give me ten minutes.  I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>“First door on the right in the hall,” Hannibal replied over his shoulder as he made his way across the room.  “Take your time.”</p><p>***</p><p>The fire was roaring by the time Will managed to join him.  The sleeves of his sweater remained above his elbows; he padded across the room barefoot and more at ease than Hannibal had ever seen him.  They sank into a large leather couch the doctor had positioned before the fireplace, instinctively taking up each end with a large space separating them.  Hannibal reached across the back and drew a soft blanket from where it lay, tossing one end to Will to spread between them.  The unoccupied space suddenly filled with long legs, resting gently next to one another. </p><p>The swooping feeling of vertigo returned to Will’s stomach at the gentle pressure of Hannibal’s foot to his thigh, making it difficult for him to think.  <em>Cozy. He</em><em>’s so comfortable.</em></p><p>Hannibal rested his head against the back of the couch and sipped from the tumbler in his hand.  It had been some time since he had the opportunity to share anything from his own private liquor cabinet; the whiskey he’d chosen burned pleasantly along his stomach, setting off a gentle fire in his blood.  Will melted back against the couch with a sigh, closing his eyes as he followed suit.</p><p>“Talk to me,” Hannibal murmured, his voice as soft as the shadows in the room.  “Let me share your troubles.”  Will’s eyes opened to find Hannibal watching him through heavy lidded eyes; a lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, making him seem boyish in his earnestness.  Will’s fingers ached to brush it away.</p><p>“Just… a case,” the profiler began, a hand coming up to card through his own unruly curls. “Triple murder in a suburban home.  Home invasion from the looks of it, but the killer responsible had canvassed the neighborhood well.  Nobody saw or heard a thing.  There was-”  The whole, horrible scene crashed through him; the coppery scent of blood, the sound of it squelching beneath him as his feet moved through the carpet, sliding through a patch of congealed gore nobody had seen.  The bright blonde of what remained of the woman’s hair, tangled in a matted mess against the back of her skull.  The fingers that touched her hand where her husband tried to reach for her.</p><p>It was too much.  Before he knew what was happening, Will’s pulse sped, sending adrenaline coursing through his veins like lightning. His breath cut, eyes going wide as he tried to take a breath into his burning lungs.  His eyes shuttered closed; he couldn’t move, couldn’t explain what was happening to him.  <em>Air.  Fuck, I need air.</em></p><p>Strong, sure hands cupped his shoulders, instantly easing the worst of the tension that seized his throat.  Will wheezed painfully, leaning back helplessly into the touch.  <em>Fuck-</em></p><p>“Breathe, Will," came the calm, steady voice from behind him.  "You’re exciting your body’s natural responses to trauma, and it's seizing up on you.  Concentrate on my voice and breathe for me.”  Will’s panicked eyes sought purchase and he leaned forward, trying to take in air.  Hannibal took the opportunity of his motion and slid into the space behind him, pulling the profiler back against a warm, solid chest.  The very real sensation of feeling the other man’s body against his own physically ached; he couldn’t remember the last time he had been touched so intimately. </p><p>He never wanted it to end.  Millimeters of his tension left at a time, and Will gasped for oxygen, panting in his panic. </p><p>The hands that cupped his shoulders now made their way along his stomach, gathering him close. The other arm wrapped closer, his hand just over Will's swiftly beating heart.  Will concentrated on the breathing of the man behind him, forced himself to emulate his pattern.  Hannibal caught on within seconds and slowed his own intake to help.</p><p>“That’s it," he murmured softly against Will's temple.  "Slow and deep.  Breathe in for me.”  The took a gulp of air together.  “Now out.  Slowly.”  Long minutes passed until Will’s pulse finally stopped trying to beat it way out from beneath his ribs.  Exhausted, he relaxed bonelessly into the arms of the man behind him.  If he minded, Hannibal remained silent.</p><p>“Well, that was certainly eventful,” Will murmured.  He shivered; he could feel Hannibal’s smile against the back of his neck.  The hands came back to his shoulders, long fingers melting what remained of the tension from his aching muscles.</p><p>“We don’t need to speak of it again tonight,” Hannibal replied.  “Not unless you wish it.”   His lips still caressed the skin along the back of Will’s hairline as he spoke.  The profiler’s skin tingled, arcs of pleasant sensation skittering and tumbling along his nerves at the other man’s touch.  He could feel himself react, begin to harden, and knew he’d need to move soon…  but it had been <em>so long</em>. <em>I want this.  I don't want to move, I want more.</em></p><p>Carefully, Will let himself melt deeper into the doctor’s gentle ministrations, his head falling back to rest against Hannibal’s shoulder.  The hand on his back idled up to card through Will’s hair, bringing a startled, needy moan from the profiler’s throat before he could stop it.  He sat up, embarrassment burning through his body as if it were made of flash paper.  Hannibal let him move, remaining where he was.  Their eyes met for the briefest moment and it took everything in his willpower to keep Will from gasping aloud.  The raw need that painted the doctor’s features squeezed every scrap of air from his lungs.</p><p>“Hannibal-”  The doctor reached for him, soothing the ragged edges of his nerves with a touch.  Large, sure hands cupped his face; Hannibal’s eyes pinwheeled in the firelight, filling with ghostly reflected flames.  <em>Stop me, </em>the gaze told him.  <em>If you are unsure, or unwilling, it is okay.  You are safe to say no.  </em>Will didn’t move, only watched as the doctor leaned closer.</p><p>The swooping, fluttery feeling that surrounded him whenever he was with Hannibal returned with a ravenous force the moment their lips met; the barest brush of satiny skin, as soft as a falling feather.  Hannibal barely pressed their mouths together before drawing back, his gaze assessing the glazed look of wonderment that filled Will’s features.  A quiet, needy sound arose from the back of the profiler’s throat; with every ounce of courage he had, he leaned forward to catch the doctor’s mouth with his own.  Hannibal’s lips tasted of expensive scotch; smoky-sweet and utterly masculine.  A single sip, and he was drunk.  He surged forward, deepening the kiss as he climbed into the other man’s lap, his hands finally carding through the doctor’s silver and gold locks.  It was softer than anything Will had ever touched; he gripped the silky strands, directing the heat Hannibal’s mouth upward to cover his own. </p><p>A tongue flashed across Will's lower lip, begging a question.  The answer was yes.  Will groaned as Hannibal licked his way into the profiler’s mouth, their tongues coiling together as his hands came down to bracket his hips.  Their kiss broke in a heady gasp for air; Hannibal dragged Will’s hips downward to brush against a very prominent and pleasing bulge against the back of his thigh.  Will moaned at the bright shock of sensation; his pulse skittered wildly in his throat.  Hannibal repeated the movement, pressing his considerable erection against the back of the profiler’s jeans.</p><p>“Hannibal-”  The hands at his hips stilled.  The doctor’s eyes filled protective heat as he reached for another gentle kiss.</p><p>“Would you like me to stop?” he asked.  His voice broke over the words, rumbled huskily from the depths of his chest.  “I do not mind, darling.”  The single word shattered across the aching part of Will’s heart, a corner left so neglected, he forgot how much it pained him.  He wanted it, needed to feel the other man come apart.  <em>But what will he say when he knows-</em></p><p>“I don’t want to stop,” he whispered, watching as Hannibal’s pupils blew wide.  “But- but I never-”  At once, the other man understood.</p><p>“And you are certain you’d like to continue?” Hannibal murmured, wonderment clear in his voice.  Will nodded, cheeks flushed a dark crimson. </p><p>“If with anyone- God, I’ve been thinking about it for so long-”  His voice broke.  “I’ve wanted it to be you-”  Hannibal’s hands tightened at his waist; without another word, he braced his legs and stood, pulling Will with him.</p><p>“There is only one first time,” he murmured against Will’s mouth as he kissed him gently.  “A moment that should be cherished.  It will not be done on a couch, no matter how comfortable.”  He laced his fingers through Will’s shaking digits and lead him through the darkened house, closing the bedroom door behind them.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <em>God- oh god please-</em>
</p><p>Will’s stomach muscles quivered, aching as he fought every fiber in his being that begged for his release.  Hannibal’s mouth slowly and steadily worked his erection, their eyes flashing together as Will panted above him.  They’d hit the bedroom at an almost run; clothes lay strewn about the polished wood floor, casualties of their need for skin.  There wasn’t a place on Will’s body the doctor had not touched; grasping hips, kisses as soft as snowfall to his inner thighs, along the firm planes of his stomach, lips caressing a shoulder.  <em>I want you here,</em> the touches seemed to say.  <em>To have you here.  Taste you.  Feel you.  Give to me.</em> </p><p>It was over an hour before Hannibal finally parted Will’s thighs, pulling him to the edge of the bed as he sank reverently to his knees before him. </p><p>Will felt the first stab of fear when his  legs fell open; as if sensing the profiler's hesitation, the doctor glanced up into his eyes.  <em>Safe.  You are endlessly safe in my hands.</em>  Without a word between them, he reached Will's shaking hands to relegate them back into the soft locks of his hair before parting his lips over the damp crown of his cock.  The first pleasure was familiar; Hannibal took his time coaxing the curling waves of arousal from Will's skin as he took the profiler's prick between his lips.  He let Will arch and ache, breathe through his teeth and tug restlessly at his hair as he worked him down his throat. </p><p>He took him to a breath of coming twice before reaching for the small bottle of lube inside his beside table drawer.  The sound of the tube snapping open was almost welcome as Hannibal sought between his cheeks.  The first gentle, questing finger had felt frighteningly large, but Hannibal didn’t enter him for some time.  Instead, the finger teased, swirling and pressing until he felt himself begin to relax, pleasure pooling into the pit of his stomach.  The first push burned, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he had been afraid it would.  Hannibal took his time, gentle nudges softening the tight ring of muscle as he continued to work Will’s erection between his lips. </p><p>In time, the first finger fucking him began to feel like heaven.  Breathless, hardly daring to voice his desires, Will released a quiet moan into the air and canted his hips, begging the question without the need to voice it.  Hannibal was only too happy to oblige.</p><p>The second finger stung, but Hannibal was utterly perfect, his deep voice soothing as the nudges began again.  By the time the second finger was sliding smoothly with the first, Will knew he’d die if the other man didn’t continue.  The third finger required more work; a bite of pain shot through his body at the intrusion, tightening his breath to nothing.</p><p>“Breathe through it, sweet.  Breathe with me.  You are utterly safe.”  Slowly, his body unclenched, the tight knot releasing what remained of his fear as Hannibal worked his fingers deep into the profiler’s body, his mouth coaxing him back to hardness as Will fought to relax. </p><p>“When does this start to get better?” he whispered through clenched teeth.  With a small smile, Hannibal crooked his fingers, pressing up into Will’s body.  A white hot surge of pleasure suffused him; his mind went blissfully blank in the rush of tingling sensation.</p><p>“Holy fuck-”  Hannibal’s fingers circled within him, gently grazing over the small bundle of nerves he'd found.  Will’s hips bucked; his cock bobbed from Hannibal’s mouth as his own fell open in a silent cry.  Hannibal worked his fingers deeper, padding gently at his prostate with each thrust until Will melted into the sheets with pleasure.</p><p>“N-now-”  The fingers stopped their gentle motions.</p><p>“Are you-”  Will nodded frantically. His entire body felt as if he had been set on fire; he felt open, ready.  The need for Hannibal to take him hurt more than the questing fingers ever had.</p><p>“Please, Hannibal- God, please just-”  The doctor unfolded himself from the floor and joined him on the bed, pushing him upwards until Will’s head nestled amongst the pillows.  He watched hungrily between his parted thighs as Hannibal slicked his cock with lube, his heart beating painfully against his ribs as he noted Hannibal's hands shaking ever so slightly. <em>Wants this.  Wants me.  </em>His eyes drifted downward, snagging on the glistening prick in the doctor's gentle grip.</p><p>He was huge.</p><p>A knot of fear lanced its way through Will’s heart.  Uncannily conscious of the other man's needs, Hannibal moved into position, pressed against the softened muscle of Will’s opening.  He was hard as steel and so warm, a shiver cascaded down Will’s spine.  Their eyes met in the low light; the fragility and importance of the last moments they'd never done this coursed between them like a second heartbeat.  Hannibal cupped the other man’s face, bringing their lips together as he began to push forward.  Will was so well prepared, it took until the last few inches for him to feel any pain.  Ever watchful, Hannibal stilled, kissed his parted lips as they settled together.  After a long moment Will nodded, and the doctor continued to push until he fully seated himself; they breathed together, overwhelmed.</p><p><em>In me- oh god, he</em> <em>’s inside me-</em></p><p>“Are you all right?”  Will closed his eyes, shaking.</p><p>“Y-yes-”  Hannibal’s hands cupped his jaw.</p><p>“Then I will ask for your gaze, darling,” he whispered. “I want to see your eyes this first time.”   Will’s eyes flew open to meet the soft, careful gaze of the man above him, his pupils blown so wide, his eyes appeared black.  As their gazes met, Hannibal began to move, slowly and languorously rolling his hips a beat slower than their breathing.  Pleasure coursed through Will’s body; every gentle push filled him to bursting, the head of Hannibal’s sizable cock brushing against his prostate like a velvet finger with each thrust.  A cry wrenched itself from his throat; Hannibal swallowed it in his kiss, filling the other man’s mouth with his tongue.  Their lips parted and they panted together in the scant space that separated their lips.</p><p>“Good?” Hannibal whispered.  Will nodded frantically, his cock hard and pulsing between them.</p><p>“Good- oh god, Hannibal-”  Their pace quickened; Hannibal gathered Will into his arms, spreading his legs wider as he pistoned his hips.  Sweat pooled between them, allowing their bodies to slide slickly together as they moved.  A startled, broken moan fell from Will’s lips, and it was as if a dam of sound shattered open.  His orgasm bore down on him, rushing up from the deep, white place within him that Hannibal struck with every thrust.  The moan turned into a cry of incoherent words; he begged Hannibal to make him come, to take him forever, to never stop fucking him. </p><p>In the end, there were no words, only a glorious cacophony of reverent cries.</p><p>The doctor’s hand drifted between them, forming a snug sleeve around Will’s straining cock.  With each thrust, he stroked him in rhythm; hot tight pulls from root to tip, pulling him closer to the edge.  Will’s back bowed off the bed; his orgasm broke him into pieces, blew him wide open in hot, pulsing waves.  He could feel his emission spread along his skin, thick white stripes of come splashing up his chest as Hannibal fucked him through the peaks of his pleasure.  He gasped, panted beneath him, pulled him close as he came down.</p><p>“Take me,” he begged.  “Fill me, Hannibal.  Please.  Make me yours.”  With a groan, Hannibal buried himself to the hilt and came, whispering Will’s name  against his throat.  Exhausted to the bone, Will murmured to him through the pleasure, finger’s digging half moons into Hannibal’s back. </p><p>As they came back to themselves, the darkened room was filled only with the sound of their breathing; all else had gone quiet.  It took a long time for them to be able to move.  Will drifted, his mind blissfully blank as his heartbeat slowed.  Hannibal pulled him into his arms, kissed the sweat from his forehead as their legs tangled together beneath the sheets.  They gazed sleepily at one another, unwilling to break the softened silence around them.</p><p>3AM found them beneath the spray of Hannibal’s shower, washing their exertions from their skin as they softly kissed.  Hannibal soaped Will’s skin, his hands trailing over the contours of his body as if he loved him.</p><p>“Stay.  Please.”  Will nodded; the swooping tingles returned to his stomach, carrying away part of his heart in the rush.</p><p>“I don’t think it would be safe for me to drive home anyway,” he murmured.  “And I don’t want to leave you.”  They dried eachother reverently and stumbled to bed, pouring themselves between the sheets.  Hannibal pulled Will back into his arms, his hand winding up into the glory of his curls.</p><p>“Are you okay?”  The question took Will by surprise.</p><p>“Better than,” he confessed, reaching for Hannibal’s lips.  “I feel like I’m alive for the first time in- god, I can’t even remember how long.”  Hannibal smiled against his lips.</p><p>“It will only get better from here,” he whispered.  “Now sleep, darling.  We can talk again in the morning.”</p>
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